Skunk Day: Treat Yo'self
- Wear something to make you feel super comfy, even as the temperature drops at night. Pajamas may or may not be a part of that ensemble.
- Bonbons and/or other fancy treats.
- Racy or non-racy bathing suits.
- Really nice Tequila for Skunk and for those who imbibe such liquids.
- Give or receive foot and/or hand massages. Skunk has been trained by the best to give really good foot and/or hand massages.
- Engage in two or more spa-type activities, such as cucumber slices on the eyes, manicures, pedicures, and mud masks.
- Follow whatever guidelines given for Hot Radiation Therapy.
- Leave WalTor and Diva's fort in better shape than if we hadn't visited.
- Launch at about 2100 and fly back to Fort Tyler.
We launched 8 pilots strong (plus a floatie and her little dog too) with the ambition to fly 25ly to the plush, lovingly detailed fort of Waltor & Diva, and there pamper ourselves and especially Skunk in honor of his 52nd orbital (that's 2 x 2 x 13 for the peanut gallery!).
Dr.Claw heroically attempted to deploy the groove distribution network of the future, between Syntax Error and Shockwave, but it was determined to be temporally desynchronized and sent back to Fort for further development.
Gritty, also heroically, navimigated in the teeth of a brutal hangover.
Backslider Beezwax joined us for the outward voyage with guest TooLucky, wrestling respectively Chastity and Catastrophe to fine effect.
We wove through a foodful Minuteman wormhole, dodging obstacles while Skunk waved at everyone, then jumped off the end to brave suburban spacelanes under the sullen glare of the Earth fall daystar. After some noticeable g-wells, and also lovely vegetal Earth scenery, we halted at Concord System for various food and caffeine molecules. Diva intercepted to guide us the rest of the way. We can safely assume the natives of this system are not carbon-based organisms, as no diet cok was to be found.
Evening fell, and Dr.Claw returned on Skywarp. Gritty manifested glitter sheepskin slippers so we'd all know what time it is! Things were looking up as Diva shepherded us to her fort along pleasantly rolling g-wells. (She wisely told us in advance that they were all steeply negi – expectations control is the key to happiness.)
Once there, Waltor activated a thermal radiation vortex with photonic glow! Pilots had to choose whether to dive into that gleaming azure cuboid or Diva's VAT O MAC N CHEEZ, not to mention tequila containment vessels and plenty of homebrew cider molecules. There were bonbons by Pastry Queen, various cookies, pizze courtesy of Red Squirrel, and (at last) cok was manifested. A tizzy of pampering began, with beauty masks to remove all imperfection, cucumber slices to the eyes (they smell nice) and lavender foot baths. Pilot Flasher appeared, and Dreadflint, eXceSs, Sprocket, Perilous, Snow, and Ziqqurat parachuted in by various modes.
Skunk instructed pilots in the manly art of foot massage by discourse and demonstration, and Perilous showed him some improvements to the canonical K-tronic technique.
Somewhat later than planned (but chill about it) we launched for the return trip, with Dr.Claw taking over navimigational duty, and leaving Beez and TooLucky to crash in the outer wilds. Zooming through the dark, dank, quiet burbs, the magic spirit of gang harmony came to us and we enjoyed an easy flight home, with just a few short stops for rustic fuel dumps. Fourier Formation on Mass Starpath remains the quintessence of SCUL.
Mission success: we have now erased all memories of Operation Pilots Need Pampers.
Strength and Chic to Gritty
Patronage to Waltor and Diva